The Mundane Life
by thebigVEE
Summary: Albel and Nel are forced to cooperate in the modern world when a mission gone awry leaves them stranded in a city on earth. To get back home, they must locate and contact their friends Fayt and Sophia, but where to start?
1. Prologue

**The Mundane Life - Prologue**

_Hellooo! bigVEE here. This is my first attempt at a fanfic, so yay (or nay?)! Anyways, this features my favorite raging couple Albel and Nel from Star Ocean 3! Of course, I'm not much of a romance-writer person thing, so... don't be expecting any actual hug-hug-kiss-kiss scenes... Maaaybe just a hint o' lovin', but I tell ya, thassit._

_Reviews would be appreciated! Please be nice, m'kay?_

_**Disclaimer:** I don't own SO3... and whatnot._

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**Prologue**

"Shit!"

"Now that's not like you, Zelpher--cursing like that," The sinister-looking man, who had spent the entire mission brooding, was suddenly amused, "Is our little Aquarian _scared_?"

"I don't appreciate that sneer of yours, Nox, so stop it... and while you're at it, stop talking. We're in troub—aaaghh!"

The ground was shaking now. It might not have been so bad if the two travelers were actually standing upon the rocky cavern floor. Instead, they were dangling hundreds of feet up from a decayed wooden bridge haphazardly slapped together with a frayed length of rope, of which its strength was becoming questionable.

Ahead of them was a small altar placed cozily in an alcove, which could quite possibly accommodate one person. Maybe even one and a half, but certainly not two. A glowing orb was resting peacefully on the altar, undisturbed by the clamor below.

"Albel, get to that altar. I can't pull both of us up!" Her hands were white from clutching the rope. Pieces of debris were flying past her head and into the ominous darkness below as the shaking became more violent.

"And how am I supposed to get up there, fool? I'm hanging from your damned boot," Albel retorted, then quickly added, "which is slipping, by the way."

"Me! Climb _me_! Hurry!" Nel Zelpher was frantic, which was very much unlike her during times such as this. It was probably the dark, which was velvety (if darkness can be velvety) and had engulfed them ever since they stepped foot into the cavern. Oh, and the height. She didn't like the height. It wasn't her forte.

Albel grunted and began the slow climb up Nel's leg, then torso, and paused when he came face to face with his companion. She was glowering.

"That grope was deliberate, wasn't it? I swear on Apris' name, I'll _kill_ you when this is over!"

He smiled airily, "You mean you'll try? I'll be looking forward to it," and he resumed his climb up the rope.

Finally, he threw himself onto the bridge and, after a moment's hesitation, offered his hand to help his future killer, who was still trying to inch her way up the swinging rope.

"I'm fine—just get the orb!" At this point the altar was beginning to feel the effects of the quake, and the orb was threatening to roll off into the abyss below.

After another second of hesitation—which was actually rather sweet once you thought about it—Albel withdrew his hand and stumbled across the bridge towards the alcove.

Alas, too late.

The orb was rolling towards the brink of the little niche, teetered on the edge, and fell.

"No!" Nel screamed.

Albel dived.

All the madness around him seemed to come to a halt the moment he enclosed the orb in his fist.

Then, everything went black.

Well, blacker than before.

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_H'oookay. So, good? Bad? So-so? I'd like some feedback, so feel free! winkwink_

_"What's gonna happen next?" (what I hope I got you guys thinking right now)_


	2. Step 1: Finding Oneself

**The Mundane Life - Finding Oneself**

_Yaaaay. It's chapter two! Or one, I guess, since the other one was just a prologue. This one I worked on today nonstop (avoiding summer homework--UGH). It's a little longer (key word: little)... Ummm... Okay, I'm done on commentary. Revieeeeew, please. Oh, and enjoy!_

_**Disclaimer:** No ownage of teh SO3. insert emoticon here_

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**Step 1: Finding Oneself**

It was dark. However, upon closer inspection one could see that it was in fact _not_ dark at all, and that it was actually (and quite surprisingly) midday. The endless shades of grey, from ebony to steel, could have fooled anyone—for not a ray of sun or any other colors of the spectrum, for that matter, were present—into believing that it was well into the evening. The only thing that betrayed this notion was the people. The crowd. The insanely loud and boisterous atmosphere. This was what Nel woke up to.

"Ow... What—what happened?" She started. Then, as if suddenly remembering a very important but easily misplaced item, she sat up and began frantically looking around. Grey. More grey. Oh look, a weed. It was a greenish-grey (which is very different from a grayish-green). Finally, her eyes rested on the profile of a tall figure resting against the wall several feet away from her.

"Looking for me?" It was Albel, looking very out of place among the slabs of drab and dreary color (or lack of). He was leaning on the cement wall of an impossibly tall building, in a seemingly calculated pose only reserved for the most dramatic of people. His head was bowed so that his chin was nearly resting on his chest, his arms were expertly crossed, and his foot was tapping on the ground with a quiet urgency while his contradictorily calm sidelong gaze locked onto Nel's flustered face. All pulled off with the cool, stoic flair that Albel had mastered over the years.

There was a blur of red and Albel was shocked to find Nel unexpectedly beside him, and she was leaning ever closer—her hand tightly grasping his slender wrist. Her other hand found its way to his clenched hand and entwined its fingers with his. He froze.

"Oh, thank Apris..." Nel abruptly pulled away before Albel could even protest to her 'friendly' actions, and he hastily recovered from his dumbfounded silence.

"My, my. And when did this little crush appear?" Albel snorted, "Don't fall _too_ hard, woman. You'll only get burned." He was trying hard to exude manly confidence, yet he shifted uneasily from his spot.

Nel's brows furrowed as she held up an ice-blue, milky sphere. It was the orb. But wait. Albel frowned. Wasn't he the one with the orb?

"What are you talking about, Nox? I was worried about _this_. Knowing you, I thought you would've been kicking it around by now. Don't be foolish," Nel chided.

Deciding to pretend that the last conversation conveniently didn't happen, Albel changed the subject, "Where the hell are we?" This effectively caused Nel to drop the subject, as it reminded her that the two of them were lost and that they were most definitely _not_ in Elicoor anymore. Pocketing the little gem taken from Albel's fist, she glanced around at their surroundings. They were in an alley of some sort, which led out into a highly populated street where droves of pedestrians jostled each other, paying no attention to the pair whatsoever. The air was not fresh and clean as Elicoor's had been, and Nel wrinkled her nose as an overwhelming wall of smog overtook her.

"You're right. Where are we...? And what happened?" A thought came to her, and she turned to glance at Albel, "You think it was the orb? Obviously, it must have_ some_ kind of power." She recalled the unnerving sense of urgency in their voices when King Arzei and Her Highness had laid out the mission's objectives for the two warriors.

"Bah. Don't ask me, fool. How should I know?" Albel was becoming irritated with the situation and, having lost all patience, stalked towards the street and brusquely grabbed a random passerby by the collar.

"Where the hell are we, maggot? Say something!"

The victim, a rather thin and pasty man who had seen one too many of his favorite cop shows and was ready for the worst, began spluttering and tearing up in the eyes. Albel growled and shoved the man aside. He was wicked, but bullying the overtly weak was beneath even him. He would find someone else with a little more backbone.

Upon seeing that he was indeed safe and free to run from any imminent danger, the man miraculously (and metaphorically) grew a spine. He stumbled a ways from Albel and somewhat bravely (and foolishly) called, "Go to hell, transvestite!" And he instantly took flight, disappearing into the crowd.

Albel bristled, furious. Luckily for the pasty man, Nel stepped in. She calmly placed a hand from behind on Albel's shoulder and asked a kind-looking woman, "Excuse me, could you tell us where we are? He's a bit lost," at this she nodded at Albel, who began to object.

The woman, already late for work and thus having no patience for a couple of oddly dressed strangers, curtly said, "You're in New York." Then, after inspecting more closely their strange and very foreign apparel, the woman felt guilty and caddish and decided to help some more by adding, "You know, there's a place just around the corner that might be able to help you. You should check there."

After the woman left, Nel pulled Albel by the arm back into the alley and exclaimed, "New York! Fayt mentioned it once, remember? That means we must be on—what's it called—Earth? Is that it? What are we going to do?"

"No. I don't remember. And I don't care. Did you hear what that worm called me? A transvestite!" Albel's mind was on something else: his pride, "He dares to call me, Albel the Wicked, a _transvestite_? I'm going to kill that spineless little maggot—"

Nel was beginning to lose her patience too. "That's just it! He doesn't know that you're Albel the Wicked. All he sees is a _bony_,_ pale_,_ and angry_ man in a _skirt_! _Anyone_ could've made the same mistake—" She caught herself, hoping she didn't go too far, and tamely said, "Just... forget your pride, and let's go. We're going to that place around the corner for some help."

She made her way through the crowd not looking (or caring) to see if her companion with the bruised ego was following. He had lapsed into yet another brooding silence before she had left him in the alley. She sighed, tired of putting up with the raging hunk of testosterone and of all the stares she was accumulating. It was the hair. Damn the bright red hair.

Finally, Nel turned the corner and craned her neck to find any sign that hinted at 'help'. She found one.

It read, "SMITH'S DANCERS: ADULT ONLY".

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_Hahaha, it was a surprise ending... Bet you can guess what's gonna happen next. ;-) Or... not!_

_I realize that I'm a bit wordy, without actually pursuing the story. Wow, a whole chapter on finding out where they are! Sorry, please bear with me. I'm also trying to keep Albel and Nel in character, but I wonder if it's actually working... Oh well. Peace!_


	3. Step 2: Getting a Job

**The Mundane Life - Getting a Job**

_Okay, so, geez. This one is reaaaally looooong. I think it got kinda out of hand. It was pushing it at some points, I think (you'll see). Mmmmbleaahhhh._

_**Disclaimer:** I do not own Star Ocean: Till The End of Time. The End._

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**Step 2: Getting a Job**

"Smith's Dancers...? Is this what she meant by 'help'?" Nel sighed, realizing what the woman was probably thinking when she saw the two travelers. Well, she could understand the woman's mistake in Albel's case, but really, was her own outfit and fighting gear _that_ scandalous? She made a mental note to purchase regular civilian clothing once she had the money. Fol wasn't going to work here, she knew that much. Shaking her head, Nel stepped through the snazzy revolving doors.

She was greeted by nothing. It was like stepping into a great, fuzzy ball of black—cutting off all sources of air, leaving one clawing desperately and pitifully at the walls. But this was Nel, and she didn't claw desperately _or_ pitifully. Instead, she stood frozen in one spot for what felt like hours trying to get her eyes to adjust to the dark. It was dark outside, yes, but at least then she could see two feet in front of her. In here, she was afraid of colliding with a wall. However, unable to knock the habit of sneaking around like the fine Aquarian spy she was, Nel crept down the hallway. She followed the sound of an intense, rhythmic beat and occasional bursts of overenthusiastic applause and whistles. The hallway was labyrinth-like, much to her surprise; it twisted and turned for such a long way that Nel was beginning to doubt her own ability to make it back out. But she was close, and so she marched on. Around the corner she could see flashes of fuchsia and aqua light, and then more applause and screaming erupted as if to greet her.

She was about to turn the corner when a low, soothing voice from behind caught her attention, "You lost, cutie?"

Nel grimaced and, choosing to ignore that last word, turned to see who the owner of the silky voice was. Due to the dark, she saw nothing. Surprise, surprise. Instead, she replied, "I'm looking for the head of this—" she paused as a roar of catcalls that only very drunk men could think of drowned out her words, "... establishment."

There was a low, almost charming chuckle, and the darkness in front of her purred, "You're lookin' at 'im, sweet-cheeks. What can I do for you?"

Nel was beginning to feel as if the darkness in front of her was moving closer and closer, which was unnerving. She ignored it, recalled the sign outside the building, and answered, "Mr. Smith, I—"

"Whoa-ho there... I'm no Mr. Smith—do I _look_ like a plain ol' Smith to you? It's just a name that sounded slick at the time," he explained. "Call me Don. Put 'er there." The darkness extended a friendly hand. Whether it was because she couldn't see the hand or because she didn't know what to do with it, Nel didn't move. An awkward moment passed between the two.

The man called Don cleared his throat after a minute and continued, "So, uh, what's a pretty little thing like you doin' here? Lookin' for a job? 'Cause you'd fit right in, beautiful."

Nel finally caught sight of Don when he leaned closer and into the dim light around the corner. As the owner of such a business, Don was actually quite young—perhaps only a bit older than Nel herself. He had a tall, thin build, yet his presence projected an overwhelmingly majestic aura. His perfect set of teeth glowed in the neon lights as he dashingly smiled. His outfit, creatively flamboyant and body conscious, gave him an interesting allure. Nel realized that she had been staring and shifted her focus back onto the conversation.

"A job? No, that's not what I'm here for. I was told I could get some help here, I—"

"Well, at twenty-five bucks a pop, plus tips, I'd say that's a mighty fine heap o' help right there, honey!" He winked.

Nel mentally rolled her eyes at the term of endearment. She was growing tired of this, but she knew from Fayt's little lessons that money was important here on earth. She asked, "Twenty-five? Is that good?"

Don laughed—a hearty and childish, but charming guffaw—and said, "Lemme put it this way, you're gettin' paid, oh, say $200—that's on a slow day—to just shake that tight little—"

It was Nel's turn to interrupt, "On one condition."

Don grinned, "Go ahead, hon. I'm flexible. Hell, on this job you can dance, drink, sleep—now with _who_ is all up to you," he winked, feeling especially clever, "Yes, I'm a very flexible man, Miss, Miss, uh..."

"Zelpher."

"—Zelpher, yes. Now, what's your condition?" He leered, an action that somehow contorted his handsome face into that of a disturbed, hungry man.

Nel took a deep breath and went out on a limb, "You give me and a friend a place to stay, and I'll promise to make it a full house for you tomorrow night."

A chuckle, then, "Make it tonight and you've got yourself a deal!"

-----

After a suspiciously small amount of paperwork, Nel left 'Smith's Dancers' in search for her "friend". It was raining when she stepped outside. A pleasant drizzle enveloped the whole city in a fine, calming mist. If she hadn't been in a hurry, she would've liked to have stood in the rain a bit to relax, as it had been a long and busy day—much too busy.

She found him in the same alley as before, just sitting along the wall like an abandoned (albeit rabid) dog. He was glaring at the opposite wall and didn't seem to acknowledge her presence as she splashed to his side.

"I found us a place to stay." When he didn't respond, she added, "You're welcome to stay right here though," and she turned on her heel to leave.

"Does it have a bed, Zelpher?"

Nel continued walking and shrugged; she didn't have time to go over the details of their living space with him—she had a job to get ready for. She heard Albel grunt as he leisurely got up, and she listened to his slow but confident steps behind her. No words were exchanged as she led the way to the nightclub.

The silence was broken, however, when Albel caught sight of the bright neon sign. He chuckled, "So this is where you went off to, looking for _help_? You do realize that that woman mistook you for a cheap whore?"

Without batting an eye, Nel retorted, "You'd know a thing or two about cheap whores, wouldn't you, Nox?" She pushed through the revolving doors and added, "Only the _finest_ for _you_, sir."

Albel continued to chuckle.

An escort led the two guests up three flights and left them in a spacious, unlit bedroom. It was called the 'Super-Sweet Deluxe Suite', and for good reason. Albel snorted when the lights came on, revealing a very clichéd heart-shaped waterbed, complete with an array of heart-shaped pillows lined with lace. He pulled back the crimson satin covers to discover a bedspread covered with dewy rose petals. The walls of the room were painted a passionate deep red, and scented candles hung every other foot along the wall. There was even a cabinet, unsurprisingly red and heart-shaped, filled with scented, sensual oils and certain other unmentionable 'objects'. It was all very, very romantic—except it wasn't supposed to be.

Albel laughed as Nel sheepishly asked an attendant for a chair; then he stopped short, curious, "Why do you need that?"

As the attendant left, Nel glared and replied, "Well, we're not sharing a bed, that's for sure. Oh, you get the chair tonight—remember, only the best for Albel the Wicked," and she closed the bathroom door to change.

Albel stood in the center of the room for a moment, contemplating what she had said. Then, "Shit." (Because he had wanted the bed—what were _you_ thinking?)

Suddenly, there was a knock and a crooning voice announced, "Miss Zelpher, your chair's here. I'm coming in!"

It was Don. He paused in the double doorway when he saw Albel.

"Oh. Are you, uh, Miss Zelpher's... friend?" He eyed Albel's claw and katana, then grinned, extending a hand, "Name's Don. Here's the chair you two wanted."

Albel raised an eyebrow and scowled, ignoring the hand. So this was the man who offered Nel the job. Don. He already disliked him.

"Hmph. Just give me the chair, fool."

The chair was more than just a chair however, and Albel's brows furrowed to take in the iron cuffs (complete with lock and key) on the arms and the spiked collar resting on the seat ready for use. Don beamed and boasted, "Yep. This baby was borrowed from Suite 4, 'The Chamber'." He brought his eyes to Albel's metal collar and winked, "Looks like you're already an S&M buff, eh? Nice collar." Don smirked and left with a wave as Nel appeared from the bathroom.

"What's S&M?"

Albel snorted satisfactorily, "It stands for 'Sexy and Manly', of course. Are you done yet?"

Nel stepped out into the suite, clad in an electric-blue, revealing one-piece bustier, fishnets, patent-leather boots, and her daggers in each hand.

Albel was taken aback, stuttering, "W-What the hell are _those_ for?" and he hastily turned his attention to the oils. Fascinating things, really.

Smiling, Nel opened the doors and said, "What do you think they're for? Contrary to popular belief, I don't intend on shaking tight little _anythings_ tonight. Enjoy yourself up here, I'll be busy." Then she left. Albel realized that he hadn't been breathing. He gasped for air and then tried to fall asleep in his evil-looking iron chair.

In the club below, a sea of rowdy men gathered to get a glimpse of the new 'Crimson-haired Beauty'. Needless to say, it was a full house. Nel was enthusiastically greeted by the other dancers when she arrived and was then pushed onstage into the glaring spotlight, in front of a hundred-or-so eager men. The music began, and there was an insane amount of cheering, but Nel didn't hear any of it. She was focused. She flipped out her daggers and began by slicing a full bottle of wine clean in half—which made the crowd go wild. Nel smiled charmingly. The men were already entranced. This was going to be easier than she thought.

Up in the 'Super-Sweet Deluxe Suite' (which will now be dubbed SSDS), Albel could hear every single whoop and holler, and then the disturbing "Take it off!" followed by a loud cheer.

"Bah... If they only knew her real personality, they wouldn't be so receptive." He slumped in his chair and closed his eyes.

More yelling.

"Ugh... What the hell?" After staring up at the ceiling (which had pleasant, naked little cupid-angels painted on it), Albel decided to investigate.

Below, he slipped into the clubroom. He instantly found Nel onstage sparring with the air, daggers gleaming seductively in the strobe lights. He had sparred with her many times before, but he was surprised to find that this one in particular was... different. A little more graceful, calculated, and most of all, _exciting_. But he would never admit to that. He 'hmphed' and took a seat near the hallway, so that he could later make his escape without being seen.

Too late. Nel saw the dark and gloomy man out of the corner of her eye; he was feigning disinterest as he stared vacantly at a champagne bottle at the bar. She gave a low chuckle and decided to finish quickly with a bang. She elegantly swiped a half-empty beer can from a swooning man in the crowd, threw it high above her head, did a somersault while her daggers flew towards the ceiling, and, as the cheering swelled, swiftly kicked the can towards the back or the room.

Bang. Albel was on the floor.

Nel landed with finesse, caught her daggers in each hand, and hurriedly bowed and dashed offstage. The men were screaming and applauding, hungry for more. Nel was already on her way to the suite.

When she reached for the handle to the room, a hand slapped onto the door over her shoulder. She shut her eyes, sighing, ready for the worst. She turned.

It was Don. Never mind, then.

"Hey there, darling. That was a real show tonight—I got customers tellin' me left and right that they're coming back for more tomorrow! So whaddya say, same time tomorrow night?" He was leaning on the door, grinning at her perplexed face.

"Out of the way, _worm_." Albel suddenly appeared from behind.

Don jumped, "Oh, uh, didn't see ya there, pal." He laughed weakly, falling into silence. He abruptly turned to Nel and said, "Well, I'll be seein' you then. Great job tonight, hon." He then nervously inched past the mildly sour-smelling, beer-covered Albel towards the elevator.

Without a word, Albel brushed past Nel and stalked into the suite. Nel followed, trying to hold in her laughter.

Inside, Albel sunk onto the bed and carelessly grabbed the satin bed sheets to dry his hair. Nel stood silent near the door for a minute, then, when she realized he wasn't in a talking (or yelling) mood (was he ever?) she headed for the bathroom to change.

"What did you end up taking off?" he suddenly demanded.

She paused, then shrugged, "I was cutting open some bottles and cans. They wanted me to take off the caps," then she teased, "Why? Were you worried? I'm _not_ a prostitute, in case you hadn't noticed."

To that Albel muttered, still rigorously drying his locks, "Well, you dress like one—now you can move like one. How _fitting_."

Nel rolled her eyes and smirked, "You're just jealous."

-----

Albel was rudely awakened the next morning with a crick in his neck and a bruised bottom from the iron chair.

"Mm... What is it, woman. This better be..." he gaped, reading the paper Nel held to his face. "What—a job? For me? You must be joking."

The job in question was a modeling shoot for the infamous magazine cleverly dubbed 'Playgirl'.

Nel calmly stated, "The shoot starts at ten... You've got fifteen minutes."

Albel scoffed and shut his eyes, flopping back into his chair. "There's no way in hell I'm doing that. Who do you think I am?"

"They've got the Crimson Scourge."

He leapt to his feet, "What? Stop fooling around, Zelpher." Even so, he glanced at the spot in the corner where he had left his weapon the night before. It was empty.

"You see? I gave it to them. You won't get it back until you've done the shoot."

Albel growled, "When I get it back, I'll have you know I plan to kill you!" He stomped out the door, paper in hand.

Nel called out, "You're in high demand, Albel! Everyone wants to see the great Albel the Wicked at his best! Have fun, now!"

The moment he stepped out of the building, Albel was ambushed by a pair of tanned, husky men with cameras. "Ah, you must be Albel! Miss Zelpher told us you had an interest in modeling for us?"

Albel shot them an icy-glare, "How about giving me the sword and I'll reconsider my interest in ripping you two _limb from limb_?"

The two men glanced at each other, remembering Nel's explicit instructions not to give in. "W—Well, sir... We're afraid we can't do that. You'll have to do the shoot first. The magazine goes to print _tonight_."

Albel grabbed them by the collars and seethed, "Give it to me now, maggots!"

They shook their heads and said nothing. Albel was at a loss, for he had never met anyone with the guts (or the sheer stupidity) as these two possessed, and he gave in.

"We rented a room here, actually. So we can get started right away."

Albel groaned, and they headed back inside.

The room was called 'Poison Allure' and featured dozens of large silk throw-pillows in a deep plum color. Stark white feathers covered the bed, which had a black lace canopy tied in a curtain to the posts with glossy black ribbon. Albel very nearly gagged.

"Okay, so, uh... Shall we leave you to get undressed?"

"What?" Albel spat venomously, "You want me to pose—_naked_—for your seedy women's magazine? I'll _kill_ you!" He leaped.

"Ah! Sir, sir... Remember your, uh, sword! Sir."

The other man joined in, "And you won't be completely... _out_ there, you'll—you'll have something covering up the, uh... the naughty bits," he finished lamely.

Albel took a deep breath. It was for his sword. All for the bloody Crimson Scourge. Albel began to take off his shirt, muttering, "I plan to kill you too, when I get it back... Dammit."

-----

The next day, there was an uproar at the magazine stand in the street. A mob of women were buying copies of the new issue of 'Playgirl' by the handful. The two photographers had left Nel a copy as thanks. She hadn't looked at it yet, aside from the cover (in which Albel's crimson eyes peered out at the world). Finally, her curiosity got the best of her, and Nel pulled the magazine from under her pillow and opened it to the centerfold. She instantly stiffened, blushing profusely at the picture of a very sulky and very naked Albel reclining on a bed of strategically-placed feathers.

It was then that Albel strode in from breakfast at the bar, and Nel scrambled to hide the magazine.

"What are you so flustered about, woman?"

Avoiding his gaze, she replied, "Nothing," then lowered her head as if ashamed.

"Nothing."

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_Hehehe... I feel bad for Albel. A little._

_It was fun describing those two suites and coming up with names for them! I know, I know, they're really cheesy and stuff. I couldn't help it. ;-P_

_Well, hope you enjoyed that long chapter! Review? Please:-) Peace._

_P.S. Don is a disposeable character. I don't usually like original characters, so we won't be seeing much of him now. Poor, poor silly Don._


	4. Step 3: Blending In

**The Mundane Life - Blending In**

_Helloooo. It's been a while, hasn't it? Sorry! I've actually had this idea in mind for a while now, but I never got around to it until today... Phew! Glad that's taken care of. Hopefully I won't take so long to update next time. I've been thinking of ideas for other stories too, but we shall see, won't we? Hehe... Anyways... Enjoy!_

_**Disclaimer:** Star Ocean Tres is the property of Square-Enix._

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**Step 3: Blending In**

"Bah. How degrading," Albel muttered, struggling to keep his balance as he toted countless brightly-colored bags and boxes. "Why the hell do you need all of this? There's not even any armor! Stupid Aquarian."

Nel, who was marching diligently ahead, turned and grinned sheepishly, "Well, at least you're getting something out of this too..." There was a snort behind her. "And remember, it's not because I _want_ to; it's because we _have_ to. Do you recall all of those stares we were getting?" Ah, yes. Needless to say, the pair stood out like a pair of cosplayers in a business office. (Then again, they didn't know what cosplayers were, so that simile shall be ignored posthaste!). Their strangely colorful and revealing (mostly in Albel's case, Nel liked to think) attire brought them more attention than they could ever need—plus, it was unnerving. For a fleeting second Nel entertained herself with the thought that it was partly because of her companion's... character. Dark, bushy hair teasingly threatening to cover mysteriously scarlet, fiery eyes gazing steadily from a pale and structured face—with a tall, sinewy build only the most twisted and angst-ridden of people could pull off. Add the purple sarong and it was a fan girl's field-day. Imagine.

Nel drifted back to her senses.

And then she rolled her eyes as the silence set in. At least her last remark had shut Albel up—for now. He had been snapping at random bystanders on the street all day, and had even called Nel a very rude word after their tenth store-visit (he promptly 'apologized' by sulking and then thrusting a street-vendor crepe into her hands). No, he simply was not a people-person. Tragically, this was only fueled more by the fact that Nel had forced him out of his slumber on his creepy, S&M chair (he had feigned distaste when she had offered him the bed last night) early in the morning in order to beat the midday crowds. Her intention of beating the crowds wasn't at all for his sake, however. Nel could have cared less. It was the innocent public she was worried about, and she had wanted to keep them out of Albel's reach while the two shopped.

Fat chance.

They _were_ in New York after all. Still, being new to Earth and all, you couldn't blame her for trying.

"Let's stop here to change into some normal clothing... I think we have enough for that." The store was called Saks. A strange name, but from the furnishings and atmosphere she could see, it was Zelpher-approved. They headed in, much to Albel's annoyance. The place was a little too refined and stuffy for his tastes. He wouldn't be able to pick a fight here without causing a bigger scene than on the street, and even _that_ was enough to make Nel angry. He scowled.

"Good morning, welcome to Saks. Can I help you find anything today, madam? Oh—I have just the thing. You, my dear, would simply look _ravishing_ in a dress from our new spring line right over here, let me show you. I'm guessing you're a size... oh, let's say a two for now, dear. Yes, yes, that color would look quite _splendid_ on you, darling. You simply _must_ try it on. Here's the dressing room, dear, just ring the little bell if you'd like any assistance. Ta ta!"

From inside the dressing room came a small, timid-sounding voice, "... Is she gone?"

Albel snorted, "These Earth maggots are rather pushy, aren't they?" Then he chuckled, for Nel had sounded so uncharacteristically pathetic. And then he became especially envious of the peculiar power the saleswoman possessed—to think that the great Nel Zelpher had been pushed around with such ease and speed by such a weak-looking, rail-thin woman in a power suit. Pushy _and_ very intriguing indeed.

"In any case, I'll start changing, and then we'll switch."

"What, you're not going to try that dress on? Is '_ravishing_' not your style, Zelpher?" Albel chuckled again, giddy from his cleverness.

"No, that's more _your_ style, Nox. I'll let you try it on, just be more patient, okay?"

His face fell. Albel muttered, "Damn."

He shuffled his feet as he stared out at the entrance. The aggressive saleswoman had already targeted another customer and was dragging them all around the store. Albel grinned devilishly out of amusement as the clothes in the customer's arms piled higher and higher while she stood flabbergasted and speechless. Finally, the woman was veered toward the dressing rooms, when the saleswoman abruptly stopped in her tracks and gazed at Albel. After a few moments, she began making her way toward him.

Oh. _Hell_.

"Hello there, sir. Are you waiting for your girlfriend?"

"Hell n—"

"—You must be bored just standing here all by yourself. Say, would you be interested in some silk-screen ties?"

"Look, just—"

"—They're very popular right now. In fact, I could see you in a _dashing_ burgundy tie or even one in a deep plum like that skirt you're wearing. Oh yes, that would match quite nicely, wouldn't it?"

"No. I hate—"

"—Would you mind terribly if I asked you something? Is that arm prosthetic? It looks very modern, what with the claws and such. I think it would suit you even more if it had a little bit of velvet ribbon trim around the shoulders or maybe some nice embossing on the—"

"—Hey. _Shut up_."

_Smack_! "I'm so sorry. He doesn't mean that." Nel emerged from her dressing room and stood beside Albel, who was cradling his head, glowering.

"Yes, I do."

Before Nel could smack Albel a good one, the saleswoman graciously nodded and said, "Oh, not at all. I'm sure that's just how he shows his affection. Isn't that right, sir? Ha ha ha... Well then, I'll let you two browse a bit on your own; I'm sure you can manage? Au revoir, dears!"

Nel's brows furrowed, "... I guess you managed to scare her off. You could've been more polite about it though..."

"Feh. Who could stand to be polite with _that_ woman around? Besides, since when am I—" Albel stopped short. Nel was dressed in a navy-colored silk blouse and... another miniskirt. It was about the same length as her original skirt (minus the daring slit on the side) and wasn't particularly flashy or special, yet Albel felt himself getting hot. It must've been the heaters. Yeah.

"What's with the short skirt, woman? I thought you didn't want any more attention." He looked away. The saleswoman was tittering with a slender man at the registers.

"What? Isn't this more like what people wear here? And the skirt is for extra leg room, thank you. I can move better in something like this rather than pants... I thought you of all people would know that." She gestured at his sarong.

"Hmph. Of course I knew that, fool... I-I'm going to go change."

"Be sure to wear pants!" Nel called out as Albel retreated to the dressing room. This earned some confused glances from the surrounding shoppers and a beaming smile from the overly-talkative saleswoman. As she waited, Nel ran through her list of necessities for the day. After this, they were to go to the local market and buy some real, nourishing food. The only place they had eaten at was the bar at Smith's, and quite frankly, Nel was getting tired of mixed nuts and beer.

"... Hey. Hey, Zelpher." Albel's voice was quiet and urgent.

"What?"

"..."

"Well, what is it?"

"I-I can't put this on. Why the hell did you buy me shirts with _buttons_?"

"What do you mean—you can't put it on? Don't tell me it's 'not your style'. We don't have time for this, Albel."

"Dammit, woman! Every shirt I try to button ends up ripping. It's my claw, fool!"

"... I didn't think of that... Well, what do you want me to do? Should I ring the bell for assistance? I'm sure the saleswoman would be happy to help you with your... handicap."

"Don't you dare, maggot! Just—Just get in here and button it!" _Gods, this was embarrassing._

Nel sighed, "Fine. You're decent, right? I'm coming in."

The saleswoman was having a fine time with her handsome coworker at the register when she glanced over at the red-haired young woman standing outside the dressing room. Her companion had hurriedly opened the door and after checking his surroundings, gestured for her to come inside. The door closed shut and it was quiet.

The saleswoman tittered, blushed, and then elbowed the man beside her.

"Ah, I wish I was young and wild again. Don't you, darling?"

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_Hahahaha... The sales lady has a rather dirty mind. She was fun to write (note: not based on anyone in particular). I've never been to Saks Fifth Avenue (I wish!) either, so I have no idea how it's supposed to be. I wonder if their associates are friendly and annoying like that? lol_

_Well, I hope you liked this chapter... I'll try my best to update sooner and such. Stick with me here, okay?_


	5. Step 4: Plot Progression?

**The Mundane Life - Plot Progression?**

_HURRAH! A longer chapter! With food! And beer! And... DON! XD hehehe... Yes, he's back. And as the title implies, we finally get some actual story! NO. FUH-REAKING. WAY. Welps, I worked long and hard on this one just for you guys (it is almost one in the morning as I am writing this), so I hope you all appreciate it. _

_Anyhoo, I noticed that in every single chapter so far, there are expletives. I wanted to apologize for that, 'cause I know it can be kind of annoying and/or offensive to some people. Sorry! And now... Enjoy!_

_**Disclaimer: **I don't own Star Ocean 3: Till the End of Time... Ooh, that looks so official all typed out like that! 3_

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**Step 4: Plot Progression?**

It was like... _a party in his brain. _A raucous party. One with ear-splitting, throbbing music with the bass turned up too high and too many drugged-up bimbos filling the air with their shrill laughter. A party in which there was a makeshift slip-n-slide going through the living room and into the kitchen's swinging double doors. And the party-goers were throwing chairs out the windows. That kind of party.

"Nghh..."

Needless to say, Albel felt like shit. He was incredibly hungover. He was also in bed--and not alone. Albel bolted upright, only to moan and flop back onto the heart-shaped pillows, pulling the thin covers back over his head.

"Ugh... Stop moving," came a groggy voice beside him, also underneath the covers.

Again, Albel jumped. He had forgotten. There was a woman in bed with him.

Of course.

Wait. What?

When did--?

Who--?

Did he--?

Albel's sharp facial features scrunched as he pondered. Then he wildly sprang out of bed, silky covers flying, and demanded, "Who the hell are you?" And then his blurry eyes focused, and he saw the signature red hair that belonged to none other than Nel Zelpher. He felt like puking. It might've been because he was hungover, but then, who knows?

Nel winced at the noise, eyes still shut and one hand searching around for the covers. "Not so loud... Oh Apris, I feel like I'm dying! What have I done to deserve _this_?" Then she remembered and bolted upright. Moooaaan. Flop.

"You--you--we--!" For some reason, Albel felt disappointed and maybe even a little sad.

Nel painfully opened an eye, "We, what?"

"Don't you see, fool! We've gone and slept--" It was then that his brain suddenly registered what he was seeing. It was Nel in bed, yes. But she was fully clothed. He glanced down at himself. Shirt. Check. Pants--fully zipped. Check. He decided to finish his exclamation with a lame, "--past noon." Again, he felt disappointed, though for a slightly different reason than before. He groaned, partly because of that one reason and partly because he was still hungover.

"What," his hands were massaging his head, "happened last night, Zelpher?"

Despite her throbbing headache and churning stomach, Nel could recall quite clearly exactly what had happened the night before. The two, after having shopped themselves out for clothes and food, had headed back towards their suite Don had so graciously rented to them. Nel had bought a week's worth of nourishing (not to mention _raw_) food and was planning to cook a healthy, hearty meal once they got back, but one very important fact had slipped her mind. Their room didn't have a kitchen. In fact, the whole building didn't have one. She remembered that she had nearly gone mad from the discovery, as she was so looking forward to rich, _real_ food rather than what the bar offered. And so, hungry and defeated, they had placed themselves on the bar stools to eat their fill of peanuts and beer. Hours went by as they had argued about which way to go about contacting Fayt and Sophia, and the peanuts and beer slowly turned into pricey wine being emptied from the bottle by the hour. Late into the night, when the bartender saw that the two had had enough and thus limited their alcohol consumption, the sad pair somehow made their way back to their suite. Drunk and practically unconscious, they had both fallen into bed and fell fast asleep.

It was sad, really. And also very anti-climactic.

Feeling somewhat embarassed for allowing herself to become so intoxicated, Nel simply replied, "Nothing happened." She would keep it to herself.

"... Bah. As if I cared," Albel impatiently dismissed the subject, "I'm going to go wash up. Maybe a cold bath will clear my senses..." Then, with a sneer, he teasingly added, "Care to join me?"

"_Please_. I'll wash when you're finished. Besides, coffee clears the senses--not a bath." She waved him away and fell back into bed as Albel chuckled, wincing along the way from the headache it brought on.

_Too bad_, he mused.

-------------------

"I see you're up and being productive." Albel appeared at the door between the bathroom and the suite, still damp from his bath and wearing the same pants he had on before.

"Mmph... Leave me alone." Nel had retrieved the covers and had buried herself underneath countless pillows. Albel smirked and stalked to the foot of the bed. He sat down, narrowly missing Nel's feet. Then he began to attempt putting on another cursed button-up shirt, making sure to bounce and jolt the bed with every movement he made. There he sat, for at least five minutes, half-struggling with his clothing and half-amusing himself by aggravating Nel with his jerking movements.

"Damn you, Albel." She reluctantly sat up and irritatedly snatched his lapel to have him face her. Then she began buttoning his shirt as he sat quietly, smirking in that devilish way of his.

"You brought it upon yourself, you know. Next time, get me something with zippers." Then he added, "Fool," for good measure. Nel grimaced and kept herself from smothering him with sickeningly sweet heart-shaped throw pillows.

When she finished, Nel straightened and announced, "I'm going to take a bath now. Order us some coffee."

"Hmph."

-------------------

By the time they had finished with their morning activities, it was already three. Now, Nel was not only parched, but she was ravenous. Albel had apparently taken the liberty to finish off their coffee before she got out of the bath too. This caused her to decide against treating him to lunch--albeit a very late one. Besides, he still had enough money from his modeling stint to last another week! In contrast, Nel found herself having to perform every two to three nights in order to have some spending money. That ingrate! She stomped along the sidewalk fuming as Albel trailed behind her, oblivious.

They made their way through the throng on the street towards a small diner Don had recommended (for the cute waitresses, no less). Upon stepping through the snazzy revolving door, they were enthusiastically greeted by a pair of brassy-haired, big-breasted women in short little uniforms and matching frilly aprons. Nel noted that they were indeed a bit attractive, and she threw an almost nervous glance in Albel's direction, who was slouching at her side.

"How can we serve you today?" They were smiling while staring hungrily at the scowling man beside Nel.

"Hmph. Just get us a place to sit already. And make it quick." Albel was already getting snappy from the crowds.

"Right away, sir!" The two waitresses giggled flirtatiously and flounced over to a table by the window. "Over heeeere!"

Nel glanced at Albel again before making her way toward her seat. After she sat down, she looked at the waitresses, who were fawning over Albel and--was that a glare they just shot her? _Well._

"Excuse me, but _we _would like to order now." She emphasized the 'we' in hopes that it would dispel the women away so she could at least eat in peace. She still had a headache. However, they continued to lavish Albel in unwanted attention (at least, Nel secretly hoped it was unwanted) and ignored her. Albel looked indifferent as he sat down.

"What can we get for you, sir? Maybe some tea? Ooh! We have a special recipe that's just _divine_! Maybe... We could share it during our break time, hm?"

Much to Nel's relief, Albel growled, "Do I l_ook_ like a tea-person to you maggots?" The look on their faces was priceless, and Nel found herself smiling inwardly.

One waitress--the taller one and the bravest of the two--stammered, all sense of flirtatiousness gone, "W-Well, there's the special..."

Albel snorted, "Fine. We'll have that." And he sat back, arms crossed, and fixated his eyes out the window.

After the women hurriedly left with their order, Nel and Albel sat in complete silence. Nel felt strangely uncomfortable despite the fact that silences were usually common between them. She fidgeted. He sat stone-still. They waited some more.

"Ah... Here you are... The house special. Er. Enjoy, sir. Miss." At that, the waitresses scuttled away to fawn over a customer that had just arrived.

The sound of their forks clinking against the plates was accompanied by background chatter and light jazz. The pair seemed focused solely on their flame-broiled steak and potatoes, and any stranger would have guessed that they were a couple caught in an awkward lover's spat and were simply just not speaking to each other. The truth was, once the steaming plates arrived, Nel was once again reminded of her hunger, and she wanted to savor each bite. Albel, on the other hand, ate for the sake of eating and had nothing to say.

Finally, Nel took a sip of water and ventured, "Shouldn't we try to find Fayt and Sophia soon? Don't forget, we still have that mission back on Elicoor to--!" She abruptly jumped to her feet, gripping and supporting herself on the flimsy table. "W-What was that?" She reached into her pocket and pulled out the now shining orb, which was softly pulsating along with the jazz.

"What did you do, woman?"

"Nothing! It just started reacting to something... And now it's glowing..."

"Well, fix it!"

"I can't just--Look!" She held the orb up into the light as Albel curiously leaned forward. There was an image, barely tangible, within its depths.

Nel uttered, "It's... Fayt... And Sophia!"

Albel scoffed, "I can see that, fool."

"But they're wearing uniforms... Does this mean--?"

"--Saaaay, that's a neat little gimmick ya got there, sweet cheeks." Nel recognized that smooth voice and term of endearment. It was Don the Disposable Character. She nearly groaned and rolled her eyes.

Albel groaned and rolled his eyes for her, and spat, "What are you doing here, maggot? Must I see you while I'm eating?"

Don held up his hands in mock defeat, "Hey, hey. I was just stoppin' by to pick up some scones--damn good stuff--and then I saw you two... Now, where can I get me one of those...? What d'ya call 'em?"

Nel looked at the orb, "Ah... Well... It's nothing special, really." She made a move to put it carefully back into the recesses of her pocket when Don deftly swiped it from her delicate hand.

"Hmm... These your pals? Say, she's a cutie. Heh heh... Looks like they go to that one university--what's its name..." He snapped his fingers, "Eh, well, it's close-by--This some kinda TV or somethin'?"

Albel frowned, "Tee vee? The hell--?"

Nel interrupted, "--You know where this is? How? And where?"

"Easy, honey, easy! I can tell by their uniforms. It's a real elite school--I remember. Heh, I failed outta there like _that_! But anyway, it's just, uhh--let's see--twenty, thirty miles away from here? I can give you directions if you want."

He was surprised to see a real, genuine smile from Nel (usually he got the 'Oh, it's you' grimace or the forced smile--he knew, 'cause he was real smart that way. Surprisingly.) as she said, "Please. We need to see them as soon as possible."

"Feh," Albel muttered, and he shoveled more potatoes into his mouth.

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_Pheeeew! So. All done for today. I think I like this chapter the best out of all of them. I just particularly like the little shirt-buttoning scene. It's cute. I hope you guys liked it too! Be sure to review and let me know if I need work on anything, okay? Thanks a bunch for reading! Until then._


	6. Step 5: Moving Along

**The Mundane Life - Moving Along**

_Hello again--long time no see! Anyway, I'm so sorry for the long delay, and for such a short update! It's about 1 in the morning right now, 'cause I stayed up to write this for you guys. Hope you like it. :) I'll be trying to update more frequently once winter break starts or something... so please wait just a little longer! Till then, enjoy the newest chapter._

_**Disclaimer:** After five chapters, I think you've got it down._

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**Step 5: Moving Along**

"We're getting closer..."

"Ohhh, of course we are--hell, we're moving an _inch_ an hour! What _progress_!"

"_Please. _That's not what I meant... Look."

"Hmph."

As the garishly bright yellow taxi inched forward, caught in one of those infamous traffic jams not uncommon to New York, its passengers spent their time bickering and (much to the driver's confusement) staring doggedly into a strange little orb.

Nel sat back against the plush, grey leather seat and said, "There. See that? The image is still a little fuzzy, but it's been getting less faint for the past few minutes. It must mean we're on the right track."

"Fool. We haven't moved a _mile_ for the last two hours... What makes you think we'll actually make it there?" Albel could feel the hairs on the back of his neck begin to rise out of pent-up rage. He'd wanted to simply walk to the stupid school, but _no_... _She_ insisted on taking a taxi. _She_ said that _she_ had done some research--that taxis were the fastest common transport systems here--and that _she_ would rather take the time to get acquainted with these new "technologies" here on Earth...

_Damn her and her persuasive ways._

Nel was silent then, irritatedly tapping her slender fingers on her leather skirt.

_-Thp. Thp. Thp. Thop.-_

Brows knitted in an attempt to block out all things Nel-related, as she was quickly becoming just another worthless maggot to him (and all worthless maggots shall be promptly crushed), Albel let out an irate breath that fogged up half the crusty window of the taxi. He clenched and unclenched his palms, his claw itching for a workout.

_-Thop. Thp, thop.- Fingers tapping away on that luscious, soft leather..._

"Erraghh!" Albel, in one swift and violent motion, snatched her wrist away and pulled her towards him.

"Albel! What--" Nel's face collided with his chest.

This was his chance. Get her while she's disconcerted... and make a break for it!

"We're getting out of here."

Albel very nearly ripped the door off its hinges, he was so eager to get out of that cramped space. The taxi driver managed a small, "Hey--" before Albel dug into his pants pocket and threw a handful of twenties in his face, "Thanks for nothing, worm!" and he slammed the door.

"Albel! What the hell are you doing? Put me down!" Light-as-a-feather Nel was dangling pitifully from the nook of his elbow, much like a sad little sack being carried out to be disposed of.

"Fine." He dropped her and began weaving through traffic to get to a sidewalk, throwing death-glares in the direction of drivers who dared to honk their horns at him. Nel managed to land on her feet, although she was shaken by how easily Albel had overwhelmed her a moment ago. And then she was fuming. She shook herself and angrily followed, prepared to drop-kick the man and promptly stab him in the face.

"And where do you plan on going? The university is over 20 miles away! We can't walk." Nel was beside him now, dodging the masses of miscellaneous faces on the tiny strip of concrete. "We--!"

Albel kept walking. She'll catch up.

"..."

_She'll be right behind me. Any time now..._

_3... 2... 1..._

_... Blast._

Restraining a growl, he whipped around in time to see Nel ten feet away and caught in a wave of time-crunched pedestrians rushing down a large, dark stairway. A rusty, barely legible sign above it read "SUBWAY."

"Damn!" Albel sprinted towards the stairwell where Nel had disappeared, animalistically shoving bystanders aside.

Seeing no sign of her at the top of the steps, he began his descent into the dimly lit tunnel below, cursing all the way. When he reached the bottom, he found her flailing helplessly in the middle of a crowd as it shifted in a mass to board an impossibly long, metal contraption.

"A-Albel!" Nel, for the first time since that little scare on the old bridge back on Elicoor, was frightened. Where was she going?

Albel threw another man aside and called out, "HEY! Stay there, fool!" He made his way slowly towards the now closing doors of the vehicle, with Nel sandwiched between multiple strangers inside.

"You think I have a choice?" Nel yelled breathlessly. She was beginning to feel a bit calmer now that she'd located a familiar face. Sure, it was Albel's familiar face, but a face nonetheless.

There was only a six-inch gap between the closing doors now. Finally, Albel was in front of the shifting doors when a short little bald man in spectacles cut him off to board. Albel narrowed his eyes, "Get out of my way, _maggot_," and easily hefted the man up by the back of his collar and tossed him aside like a rag doll. He then slid his clawed arm through the slit between the doors and forced them open once more. To his satisfaction, people who had seen him and the man in the glasses stumbled to get out of his way. There formed a small pocket of space, with Nel waiting in the middle.

As he sidled up to her, Albel murmered in relieved annoyance, "You're more trouble than you're worth..."

"Hm?"

"Nothing. Shut up, woman." He scowled and reached up to take hold of a bar on the ceiling as the subway started moving. Nel did the same, and the two were quiet for a moment.

_-clacka, clacka, clacka-_

"..."

"... Any idea where we're going?"

_-clacka, clacka, clacka-_

"... Shit."

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_Ta da! All done. Again, sorry it was so short. I was kind of lazy with the descriptive parts and had a lot of dialogue... But yeah. Ummm... So, let's hear it. Which is your favorite chapter so far? And any suggestions for how I can improve? Or maybe even... what would you like to see happen in this fic (not too much out of the plot-line though, please)? I always appreciate your feedback! Thanks for reading! PEACE._


	7. Step 6: How to Be Convincing

**The Mundane Life – How to Be Convincing**

_So, so sorry that it's taken me like, a year to update!! I had the basic outline for this chapter done way back when, but I never had time to finish it until now, while I'm on spring break (HUZZAH!). If you've probably forgotten what's happened... maybe you should re-read this fanfic. Maaaybe. And maybe you could also leave a review, pretty please? In any case, this chapter has the most "romance" so far, so even if you don't want to re-read everything, please be sure to read this! Thanks again!_

_**Disclaimer: **__SO3TTEOT B-LONGS 2 SKWR EENX. KTHXBAI_

_**Step 6: How to Be Convincing**_

Two hours and multiple threats-to-innocent-bystanders-with-enough-bad-luck-to-simply-be-in-Albel's-way later... Nel breathed a sigh of relief as she nimbly stepped off the platform of the subway onto sweet, solid ground, with an agitated Albel trailing after her. She was actually quite surprisingly pleased, as they had finally arrived at the station a mere five minutes away from the campus they were searching for. Silently, she prayed that they would find Fayt and Sophia without further distraction—especially with Albel in his current state.

"Well? What now?" he barked.

Nel put it simply, "We walk," hoping that the fresh air would calm her nerves as well as Albel's fury. She inhaled the crisp scent of the air, laced with the musty smell of the earth brought on by the rain. _Funny,_ she thought, _how easily nature's scent mingles with the slate and smog here._

Funny, indeed.

Albel coughed. They had arrived in front of a massive piece of architecture surrounded by a grove of trees (how the foliage came to be there is a mystery, as every inch of visible ground was covered with concrete) encased within ominous wrought-iron bars of ebony, flecked with silver and sludge.

Nel began rummaging in her pack around her waist. Albel hadn't noticed it before, but then, he should have known. After all, Nel Zelpher was always prepared.

"We'll need to blend in if we want to investigate inside. Don told me there are guards swarming the area."

She pulled out a wrinkled, plaid piece of clothing and flapped it twice against the breeze to flatten it out.

It was a skirt. A short one.

Ahem. Excuse me... Veeeeery short.

As Albel was busy marveling at the impossible lack of fabric on the skirt, Nel began rummaging in her pack again to retrieve a matching jacket and blouse, both equally spare in the fabric department. How she fit so much in there was beyond him.

He sneered, a bitter taste on the back of his tongue, "And I suppose that playboy of sorts gave you those... 'costumes?'" Oh, how he despised that man.

Oblivious as to how the costumes might actually be used, Nel nodded. Her innocence was rather endearing, actually, Albel noted. And then he was disgusted with himself for having such a thought. Again.

"I have two for the both of us."

He shook his head and scoffed.

"You expect me to wear _that_? Don't make me laugh."

She paused, stewing for a moment at his lack of cooperation and began to stare at the garments in mock contemplation until she apparently arrived at a decision. She grinned and held the skirt up.

"What—Does it need a slit? Here, let me fix that for you—"

Nel gripped the skirt as if to rip along its seam, feeling particularly spiteful. She chuckled and continued mischievously grinning.

Almost to her disappointment, Albel didn't have an immediate reaction. He only glowered in silence as she waved the tiny garment in front of his face, still chuckling.

Finally, "You laugh now, woman, but let's see you do it without a _throat_. Everything that spews out of your puny mouth is worthless anyway!"

All playfulness slid from her face. Oh, no he did _not_. Here was another silly little spat she was about to throw herself into, much against her common sense. She was just bent on winning one now... It was then that she recalled a certain naughty centerfold of a certain very naked man covered with strategically-placed feathers. Why it came to mind at this very moment, she did not know, but she would certainly get payback using this special information.

Without further thought, she replied, "Oh? That's big talk for such a _small_ man... Next time, don't even bother with feathers—there's nothing to hide!"

Albel's nose flared and his face tinged a dusty rose color, and Nel realized what she had just said. She felt her face flush with embarrassment and thought, _He has no idea what I saw!_

"_What_... did you just say?" he spat. His claws were clenched; he was clearly enraged.

Nel stuttered, feebly covering her hot-headed words with, "I-I said, 'Don't even bother with leather—it's nothing but hide!'" (Hahaha... get it?)

There was an awkward silence. Nel fidgeted under Albel's hard gaze, his jaws tense and his fists trembling.

Amazingly, his gaze softened (if you can call Albel the Wicked's face "soft") after what felt like an eternity, and he turned away.

"Hmph. That's what I thought you said." He began to stalk away from her, towards the grove.

Nel exhaled, not realizing she had been holding her breath. Albel had been having that effect on her lately. She then shook her head at the blatant lie he had just told. He knew exactly what she was talking about—his newly flustered face and slightly pink cheeks as he turned gave it all away... She'd have to make a point to stay far away from that subject in the near future, even if they were in a cheeky name-calling battle. It was too uncomfortable a subject for the both of them.

She hesitated, costumes in hand, before following carefully behind Albel.

"Where are you going?"

He gave her a quick glance, "To get a real disguise, idiot. Some _pants_, maybe."

That remark reminded her of something. A centerfold, perhaps. Some... feathers and such.

_Oh Apris... Don, what have you done to me?_ Nel blushed profusely and decided to fix her gaze on the ground.

"_You_. Undress. _Now_."

Nel shot out of her daze only to see Albel ruthlessly grab a quivering male student by the collar of his uniform and pin him against a tree that, like all the other trees in the area, seemed to sprout from out of nowhere thanks to the headmaster's capricious aesthetic sense.

"Albel, what are you doing!?" she frantically exclaimed, waving her tiny, sad excuse for a skirt.

Unfazed, Albel didn't even bother glancing in Nel's direction; he simply rolled his eyes at the sound of her irritating voice and muttered, "Shut up, Zelpher." He then increased the strength of his death-glare tenfold upon the pitifully ghost-white student and ordered, "Hey! I said undress!"

The boy whimpered. As afraid as he was, it didn't stop his mind from narrating this very moment in the dryly humorous way as he was accustomed to. Someday, he might even write a book about this. After all, he was an aspiring author, and he never passed up an opportunity for subject matter no matter how life-threatening it was. _I'll call this... Memoirs of an Innocent Boy Who Was Mugged by a Satanic Being: An Account in Three Parts._ He was never any good at creating titles, anyway.

Finally, the student nodded and began shakily unbuttoning his carefully ironed navy blazer and white button-up shirt while trying futilely to kick off his navy slacks at the same time. Quite an impressive feat nonetheless, considering he was still suspended in the air by Albel's iron grip, which had moved from his collar to his shoulder. He was not going to lie, it hurt like hell.

Once his victim was in his undershirt and boxers, Albel smirked—which made the boy foolishly think that perhaps he would live to write another "award-winning" book (that nobody was going to read) someday—and abruptly released his hold. The boy unceremoniously hit the dirt, his wry sense of humor continuing in his head. _Face, meet dirt._

Nel winced upon impact, wondering to what lengths they would have to go to ensure that the student would not run and snitch... Maybe they would have to tie him to another one of those oddly placed trees and pray to Apris that a fellow peer would not get the urge to explore this cement jungle, of all places. It was then that another thought entered Nel's head. An opportunity!

"Wait! Um, I'm so sorry about this, but... do you know Fayt Leingod or Sophia Esteed? Please. We need your help."

The boy grunted and rose to his elbows and knees, searching for the source of this splendid voice. Ah. Rose-colored hair, apple-tinted cheeks, ivory skin of porcelain, and glittering eyes that could compete against even the rarest of gems. _Hellooo._

Albel suddenly felt very, very annoyed at the way the student was looking at Nel. Too many raging hormones at this age; it was disgusting. Unconsciously, Albel growled deep within his throat and shifted noisily, which caused the student to remember that he was in a very precarious position at the moment.

The boy gasped, "I—I don't know anything! Please don't hurt me! Augh!" and he bolted. Not only was he an aspiring writer, but he was also an MVP in the university's track and field team.

Nel started, "Wait--! Ah, damn." _Damn you and your stupidity, Albel!_

"He was useless anyway," the stupid man said, confidently making his way towards a more populated patch of trees on their left.

Exasperated, Nel blew air through her clenched teeth and began to follow, "Great, Albel. That kid's going to alert their guards, and now they'll know we're here!"

"Well, the faster you get dressed, the harder it will be for them to find us. Stop spewing, and start changing," and with a dismissive wave, he disappeared behind an old oak.

A vicious scowl crawled its way onto Nel's face, who stalked behind another tree at a distance in a huff.

There was silence for a moment.

And then, "No peeking!" Nel yelled, darting her eyes back and forth from behind her tree that suddenly seemed much narrower than was advertised.

"Who would want to, fool!?" Albel spat. Nel was surprised when a ball of clothes from his former outfit was flung in her direction. Meanwhile, a pack of students on their way to their next class turned their heads to watch in confusion. Unidentified flying objects?

Finally, Nel had finished dressing the part and cautiously stepped away from cover as Albel was just fastening the last aggravating button on his shirt. Never mind the blazer. It constricted his limbs, anyway—how was he supposed to crush somebody if he could barely raise his arms? It would remain open, so help him. Nel stifled a laugh, as her partner's sleeves were a bit too short and his slacks ended just above his ankles. And yet... the whole look was still a little appealing. Disheveled, yes, but that added to the whole effect.

Albel frowned as he examined her outfit. The blouse was too low cut to be even remotely appropriate for a private institution, that was all he knew. Somehow though, it looked just a bit more sophisticated on Nel than it should have been. His eyes then glided lower to acknowledge her tiny plaid skirt fluttering in the slightest breeze, and—was that some lace he just saw?? His eyes grew so large that if they were round instead of almond shaped, they could have rivaled even that maggot Soufflé's, or whatever it was she was named after--was it Casserole? Or Danish? Dumpling? In any case, he quickly spun around, eyes on the ground and muttered, "Well, what are you waiting for? Let's move."

Unfortunately, a crowd was beginning to gather as awestruck classmates stopped to ogle this odd, but insanely hot couple that was suspiciously emerging from behind the trees.

As inconspicuously as they could muster, the two new "transfer" students slipped into the first entrance they could find, with Nel avoiding the eyes of the burly security guard at door while Albel defiantly stared him down for a few seconds before being pulled into the building.

Inside, whispers from a mob of students surrounded them: "Are they models?" "I haven't seen them around here before..." "Look at her legs!" "He's a dream!" The two trudged onward, with no general idea or plan as to how they should go about pinpointing the elusive Fayt and Sophia.

The buzz was getting louder, as news spread that a pair of model-esque students had entered the building, and everyone wanted a piece of the action.

"Did it hurt?" A tall, well-built young man with piercing grey-blue eyes had stopped Nel in her path, leaning over her with his elbow curled on the wall for support.

A crowd of other hopeful young males had already surrounded her, with Albel nowhere in sight.

"Ah… Excuse me?" Nel found herself getting nervous, a bead of sweat already gracing her forehead. It wasn't like she had never had experience with men before; she just wasn't accustomed to this particular boy's upfront attitude... not to mention that twenty or so pairs of testosterone-driven eyes were becoming too familiar with the contours of her body for her to be comfortable.

The handsome young man chuckled and replied, "Did it hurt when you fell from heaven, babe?" as his peers looked on.

Nel frowned. What kind of question was _that_? "Actually, all I remember is falling from a rope on the bridge... and then I was here--well, not _here_, obviously, but," and then she became apprehensive (never trust strangers, after all) and asked, "Why do you want to know?"

Several feet away, Albel was flanked by members of the opposite sex, although this kind, he noticed, was much different and in some ways scarier than even the scarlet-haired ninja he knew. To the naked eye, this particular species of woman seemed physically perfect, attractive. However, each and every one was pushing the other, squealing and giggling unabashedly, their hair sticking to their carefully-applied lip gloss, just to get to the special nougaty center of the circle: him.

"Omigaaaaawd, he's sooooo gorgeous!" "I want him!" "So sexy!" The pack was intrigued by this pale, raven-haired man with a steel claw for a hand, which they thought was more kinky than threatening. Normally, the attention would have fed Albel's ego. Instead, he was becoming annoyed with the excessive noise, and he had also lost Nel in the sea of students. He was beginning to feel a little bit lost, a little too hot and uncomfortable in his stolen attire, and a little bit bloodthirsty. He desperately wished he was home so that he could release some rage in the plains of Airyglyph on the unsuspecting wildlife...

Nel had tuned out the noise and probing questions the boy with the grey eyes was asking her. She had located Albel nearby and was instead watching as countless young women practically threw themselves upon him without even a protest from his pulled-thin lips. Surprisingly, this angered her. Ignoring the overly friendly boy in front of her, she pushed through the mass of cat-calling men towards the group of women a few feet away. Somehow, she was able to fight her way through to the front of the throng, her hair a mess and an ache in her side where she had accidentally been elbowed, where she decisively snaked her arms around Albel's shoulders in an attempt to display ownership of some sort.

Nel grimaced for a second, but ensured herself that what was to be said next must be done, and declared loudly, "Albel, darling. We have to get to class now, don't we?" while pulling him closer and resting her head upon his chest. She felt the urge to stick her tongue out at the other girls, for which she had no idea why.

Albel stood aghast, but he found himself enjoying the shock and disappointment on the students' faces. It was then that he realized just how little space there was left between he and Zelpher, and he instinctively shoved her away.

"What the hell?! Get away from me, you fool!" Immediately after, however, he felt embarrassed and a little bit angry at himself for pushing Nel away.

There was a collective sigh of relief from the crowd, now a mixture of both men and women, "Oh, good! I thought you guys were like, you know, for _real_." "You're not an item, are you?" "How's about a date, toots?" "Quit trying to hog him for yourself!" "He doesn't know how to appreciate a _real_ woman."

"Tch," Albel suddenly realized the reason behind Nel's flirtatious actions, and took an exasperated breath while trying to decide what to do next. Nel, on the other hand, was once again engulfed by a never ending sea of males. He made a quick decision.

Determined to put a stop to the madness, Albel forced his way through the student body, throwing a few kids around here and there of course, and took hold of Nel's arm. Violently, yet as convincingly as he could, he pulled her towards him until her face collided with his chest, where it remained with his arm encircled around her hair.

"She's_ mine_, worms," he snarled. Nel remained motionless, afraid that if she moved even a millimeter, her senses would kick in and tell her to rain divine punishment upon Albel's head.

There was silence.

And then a voice from the back said, "Hey man, let her go—I thought you guys weren't together! Let us other guys have a chance," which drew murmurs of agreement. The mob began closing in again.

Albel snorted. So they weren't going to back down. How interesting. He smirked, which caused some of the females around him to swoon, but he ignored it all. This certainly wasn't a battle to the death, but it definitely served as a challenge that he sure as hell wasn't going to back down from.

"Hmph." So be it. He deftly took hold of Nel's chin and jerked her mouth to his. _Look who just won, maggots. _Nel's eyes grew wide as his lips crashed into hers, and they remained there still.

Immediately, there were groans and mumbling from among the students. Some drifted away, much too late for their next class. Some stragglers simply stood to watch.

"I'm insanely jealous—but, you know, it's kinda hot." "It's like a romantic scene in a movie!"

Nel was inclined to push Albel away, feeling as though they had done enough to rid them of their pursuers, but she couldn't bring herself to do it for some strange reason. She kept going along with it, but she was starting to run out of breath. His lips were still crushed against hers. She supposed that it could've been romantic, except that it hurt.

His lips still on hers, Albel raised his eyes to watch the crowd dissipate, until there were only a few hopefuls left in the hallway watching them. _Gods..._ Finally, he released his hold on the back of her head and drew himself away, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. As Nel gasped for breath--partly from shock and partly from the lack of air during the whole two minutes they were in lip lock--Albel gave a final glare at the stragglers, who quickly made themselves scarce.

Nel bit her lip, a slight blush still adorning her cheeks, "I can't believe you. You could've warned me." She folded her arms against her chest.

Albel sneered. He loved when she was angry. "Feh. It was going to be me or one of those maggots sooner or later—you should be thankful it was me."

She cocked a brow, "'Sooner or later?'"

His face fell.

A coy smile emerged on Nel's face, as she taunted, "Well, well, Albel... when did this little crush appear?"

He said nothing; his face had turned stoic under pressure, and she unfortunately could not read him. Giddily, she ventured, "Sound familiar?"

He growled underneath his breath and turned his face to the side, arms crossed with his claw flexing open and closed.

After a moment, Nel turned and began strutting down the hallway, chuckling. "Don't fall _too_ hard, Albel darling..."

_Don't forget to leave reviews! Thanks for reading!_


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